


All that I've Done

by JadedPrince



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Forgiveness, Infidelity Mention, Past Character Death, Sex, death mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 14:45:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6524434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadedPrince/pseuds/JadedPrince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You never forget the feeling of the sun on your skin for the first time and she was stepping from shadow and into the light."</p><p>When Eliza does not come home one night Alexander jumps the gun and assumes the worst. Drowning out his fears by reaching the bottom of the bottle, he consults a lost friend until his wife returns. Amends are made and their healing process begins with a night spent together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All that I've Done

“Did you ever think this would happen, John?”

Alexander thrust his glass forward, gesturing toward the dying fire that had long since seen its peak. Pale brown liquid leapt onto the floor at the roughness of his hand, escaping the fate of the rest of the bottle that lies empty at the hearth.

“That I would be here and you wouldn’t be?” He laughed, sloppily downing the last of his glass.

A stream of alcohol ran down his chin, “And that I would ruin everything we worked for? All of those essays, all of those drinks, all of those…all of those…people we killed. Did you ever think I would be the one to throw it all away?” He wiped his chin much too late, the alcohol pooling across the pale fabric at his neck.

The laughter started slow, mocking, as his mind worked in slow motion. It grew, multiplied, hysterically, he doubled over in his chair, the glass sliding from his fingers and shattering at his feet.

“Me, of all people? All of this because I fucked her, John. I fucked a married woman in the privacy of my own home. Not just once or twice, years, I fucked her for years, John.”

Sobs rolled off of his tongue as he slid forward in his chair, tears streaming down his cheeks, breath coming in labored gasps, “I fucked her, John, because I wanted to and it’s taken me this long to admit it. I wanted to. I’ve always been a man of weakness, you know that.”

“I’ve always been one to think of myself. Hell, I left her so often, John, I would just leave my wife when she begged me to stay. She…she could never get me to stay. Not even Angelica, my dearest, Angelica, they could not force me to stay but that woman…that woman with not so much as a glance made me weak. I didn’t love her, I don’t love her.”

“I don’t love her, I don’t love her.” His words became a chant, body shaking with the sobs.

“They know I didn’t love her, they know I didn’t love her, god. My own son, his eyes, the way he changed. Only now do I think he forgives me and it’s been months. Months I have lived alone. He was forced to grow up and make a decision to forgive me. Can you imagine that kind of forgiveness on a boy so young? He has forgiven me before my own wife. My own wife, my poor wife, oh my poor wife.”

He slid to his knees, barely missing the glass shards that flickered in the dying light, “That’s why I’m here now, John. John, she didn’t come home tonight, John. John, if something’s happened I’ll never forgive myself. I’ll still never forgive myself.”

“There were voices inside my head, John, begging, begging me to go, go, go, and I ignored them. I ignored them because I only wanted to do what I wanted. I wanted her, god, I wanted her.”

“I’ll never know the struggles she faces, my Eliza. I’ll never know wanting to take myself out of a narrative that someday they will write. Will they even write of me, John? Will I be lost in history? Will Washington be lost in history? Will people even know of the struggles you faced? Will they know of your dreams, John? Did they truly die with you?” 

He bowed his head, pathetic in his stance, kneeling before his fireplace with his arms wrapped around himself, “Was your father right? Does it all die with you? Will they one day only know of Jefferson or of Madison? Will they know us at all? This notion of a nation we have yet to build, will they know us at all? What if it was all for nothing. My life is a cruel joke that will never make a difference. If we are lucky they will know of Eliza, Eliza Schuyler. They will know her because of her father and not as a victim of her husbands idiocy. They will know her as best of wives and best of women, a strong woman. They will know her without me, god, know her without me, the kindest woman to have ever lived and I betrayed her. I hope they know me for what I am, John, if they are to know me at all.”

“John,” Alexander’s voice cracked, “I betrayed the only woman I have ever loved. I didn’t deserve her, Eliza, I never deserved her. I don't deserve this life. I hope she knows that. I hope she knows she could have lead the life Angelica leads. A rich man with coin dripping from his fingertips, no, Eliza never needed a wealthy man, just someone to devote their life to her and I couldn’t do that.”

“I was never meant to devote my life to anything but myself, John, and you saw that. That’s why you had to go. You had to go because there’s nothing left here for us anymore. America sent for me, it sent for me, used me, sucked my dry, and spat me into the streets, John. You left before it could do the same to you. Death takes and it takes, it takes because it knows, it knows that being gone is so much better than the fate I've brought myself to.”

Alexander buried his face in his hands, “What have I done, John Laurens? I’ve written essays, given my…wife, oh my wife, I’ve given her more children than we know what to do with, I’ve abandoned friends overseas, watched my life that started so poor, watched my mother die, my father abandon us, my cousin die, it's all gone full circle. I had one job in this life, I had once chance to bring myself out that cycle, I made myself one vow, that I would either die on the battlefield in glory or rise up. I would rise above my station and I did, I did rise but that was only the first part of my story. The first act to a play that I don't think I want to see the end to. Maybe this is the end of the narrative. I turn out to be my father after all.”

“I’ve risen in life but I’ve fallen. I’ve fallen into a place where I see no light. I continue to write but at what cost, John? At what point is a man meant to stop?”

“Stop,” Alexander lifts his head, slowly, eyes boring into the dying embers, “Stop, stop writing, stop working. Never write my way out again, it causes nothing but pain, John, nothing but pain. It wells inside of me, I no longer know what to do.”

“What to do, what to do. Where do I go from here?” Staggering to his feet, he tried to make sense of foggy thoughts. He took a step toward the fireplace, sliding on glass and alcohol.

“My wife is still gone from me tonight, do I start there? Do I start with her? Do I look for her? Do I beg? I’ve prayed, oh, how I’ve prayed, John, that never used to happened before. I never believed in a god because I cursed at him for placing me here but I know, I know now I've done this to myself and I am sure he is the one cursing me. I walk alone, so alone, I don’t want to be alone anymore.” He placed a hand above the fireplace, “For once in my life don’t let me be alone. Don’t let me feel alone. I slept with that woman because I felt alone. I wanted to feel, John, god, anything to make me feel again and, you know, she never made me feel.”

“Only regret, John, I only regretted every moment but at least it was something. I forgot how to love, I only know exhaustion, I only know writing and provocation. I don’t know much else, John, but I want to learn, I want to learn how to love Eliza the way she deserves. I want to worship her, to know she will never feel alone, that the narrative never has to be over, that she burned the letters but not the bridge. I have to tell her.” He pushed away from the fireplace, shaking his head, and desperately trying to find his footing. “I have to tell her, I have to…I have to.”

“You can tell her in the morning.” Alexander swung around, wild eyes as he tore through the darkness to find the body to the voice. “Because she’s awful angry at you right now but maybe by tomorrow morning she will find it in her heart to speak with you.” Eliza stepped from the doorway, still in her traveling coat.  


Alexander reached a hand out toward her, “Eliza, I….”

“You always have too much to say, you always have and you always will and I don’t expect an affair to have changed that.” Despite the hurt that boiled in her chest, she took a step forward. Her voice quiet, nearly a whisper on her lips. “And I have been standing her for quite some time…do you still see him Alexander, in your sleep?”

“John Laurens,” Alexander croaked out the name he had been praying to all night, “No, I…I can hardly remember his face, Eliza, please. Please,” His voice cracked with the strain of oncoming tears and the sway of his nonexistent balance, “Remind me what he looked like. I want…I want to hear your voice again. I had forgotten, I had forgotten what it sounded like.”

“Alexander,” Eliza’s voice was soft, softer than it should have been. She meant for it to sound defiant but her true feelings would betray her until her dying day and that said, she moved forward to take his hand. She had forgotten how warm his skin was, the familiar feeling of the callouses that marked his hands. She had never forgotten, only repressed. “Alexander, let me help you to bed.”

Before he could speak, she wrapped an arm around his waist and began to tug him forward, his weight falling onto her side. He was light, with a shock she realized that he hadn’t been eating and he was already a small man.

Alexander allowed her to pull him, his eyes locked onto her face, trying to scan her emotions in the darkness. No candles were lit and away from the fireplace, their home is dark, silent.

Eliza softly cleared her throat, “He looked…handsome. Handsome eyes, handsome nose, enough freckles to hand out to the city and some to spare.” She could smell the alcohol that hung on his person but underneath it all she could smell Alexander. She could smell the ink that always clung to him, fresh parchment paper, wood smoke, but he was there. A deep musk that she couldn’t shake, filled her senses, suffocating.

She could hear his breath hitch as she recalled every detail that she could remember about the man her husband so adored until they reached their bed. “Here, let me fetch you some water for in the morning. Tomorrow is going to be rough on you.”

Alexander shook his head, “No, please, I," He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, "Please stay with me tonight. I know…I know I don’t deserve you, Eliza, but hear me out…that would be enough. Look, I don’t, I don’t pretend to know…”

She cut him off with a soft kiss, pressing her lips into his as a way to effectively cease his words. It was quick but, god, she never wanted to pull away. Tears pooled behind her eyes, “Please, don’t lecture me tonight, Alexander, this is hard enough without, without you doing this.” She took a deep breath and tried to pull away but he slipped his hands down to her waist in a light hold. He was not rough, he did not want to scare her but there was enough pressure to catch her attention.

“No lectures, no gimmicks, no work, no writing, nothing tonight, I promise. Just, thank you, thank you for that, I…missed that feeling.” He dropped his hands and sat on the bed he hadn’t even seen in months. He placed his hands on either side of him, head tilting down as he moved to untie his shoes.

“Here,” She pushed him back a bit, “Let me get these for you.” Kneeling down in front of him she made herself busy with shoes, socks, swallowing thickly as she knew his eyes were on her. “The kids have made me an expert at this, you know. They’re getting to be so big-“

Eliza’s words were silenced as she felt Alexander’s hand brush down her cheek and gently tilt her chin up. She allowed him, her heart pounding as she tried to find his eyes in the dark, it was impossible. He pulled her up, his lips pressing into hers.

She doesn’t know who initiated it, maybe both of them at the same time, but she was yanking Alexander’s shirt over his head and he was fumbling with the strings of her corset.

Their kisses were short, staccato notes of a piece with no time for rest. Somehow, through his drunken state, he managed to untie her corset, allowing the strings to begin to go slack and fall from her body.

There wasn’t enough friction, desperate, Eliza pulled away from him to drop her dress to the floor, nothing underneath sent Alexander into a frenzy. He was already pulling down his trousers, kicking them away as he pulled her on top of him.

Their lips were together once more, moans flowing from their mouths, hungry. Skin met, old lovers reunited. Familiarity set into place, Alexander was skinnier than Eliza remembered but that was soon all to be forgotten as he flipped them over.

Alexander pulled away from her mouth, he was panting, chest heaving just inches above her own. He propped himself up on one arm, the other was snaking down the side of her body. Chest, ribs, hips, lower, lower. She shivered, reaching her hands up to run through his hair, yanking the tie from its place to allow it to fall. She always liked his hair better down.

Gently, she pulled the dark strands and listened to the soft moans erupt from Alexander’s mouth. He lowered his lips to her neck, pressing kisses and soft bites down to her shoulders.

“Eliza, I’ve always loved you.” He was whispering into her skin, telling her the way he felt as his hand dipped lower, gently playing over her stomach and squeezing her thighs. “I know, not tonight, not tonight but I have to tell you, I have to show you.”

She was trembling, squirming beneath him as heat flowed through her body. Young again, she was young again, she was bold, she was a force to be reckoned with. The gray was gone, this was their wedding night. This was the conception of every child, this was her Alexander.

He swirled a finger over her clit, making her cry out from the touch, “Alexander, Alexander, please.” She swallowed, her breath coming in harsh pants, “Please, don’t take your time. There’s already so much wasted time. I love you, I’ve been helpless to you, I've always been helpless to you.”

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind, trying to find words. She couldn’t, she could never match his eloquence, “Please, Alexander, show me." Eliza didn't know when the tears started coming but her cheeks were damp and she was wiping them away.

All of her anger, all of her resistance was melting away at every kiss, every brush of his hand. He was hers and she was his and through all of the heartache, all of the burning of the letters, all of the resentment and her strength, it wasn't a match for the brown eyes that she knew were watching her. She was no match for the small man who stole her heart all of those years ago, he was the sky and she was at her limit. You never forget the feeling of the sun on your skin for the first time and she was stepping from shadow and into the light.

Alexander pulled his hands away to cup her face, brushing his thumbs under her eyes. He was undone, tears streaming down his own face, "No more talking, I, I just want you to know that I love you and if I could do this all over again...if I could do this all over again then you would never know pain, suffering, you would never know anything but love, Eliza, nothing but love and my hand in yours and you would be surrounded with happiness. All the happiness I could supply. I would run away with you every summer, every fall, every winter, every spring, we would run away and when it got dark there would be a lake where we would spend our time just like this, the moon our only companion, Eliza. Everyday I would be grateful, just to wake up beside you. That would be enough, to share your life, to share your smile, that would be enough." He faltered.

Eliza was laughing, she was laughing, she was crying, sobs brushed the tip of her tongue, "Alexander, what did I say about talking? You never listen you, you unreasonable man. You stupid, brilliant, unreasonable man." She brushed the back of her hand over his cheek, "My Alexander, god, do I love you."

They were giggling together, two children in on a joke that neither of them truly understood. Wet and sloppy kisses as they continued to cry. They held each other with tight arms, afraid that one slip and the other would be gone. Sand in their fingers, they would wake up and this would just be a dream. Never let it be a dream again.

Alexander positioned himself, running the tip of his cock over her folds, Eliza choking out a gasp. Their laughter slipped away as he pushed inside of her, replaced with low moans. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he struggled to reach her lips. Tongue intertwining as he pushed forward, sliding in and out of her in a slow rhythm. She was tight around him to the point where he could see stars in his vision, he couldn't find enough air, his chest ached. He loved this woman, he loved this woman more than anything in this life.

Eliza pressed her hips back against his own with every thrust, her body was on fire. She could not feel enough of him, hands running over his back, nails gently etching into his skin. She could feel his ribs, bone protruding from sun kissed skin. She would have to change that in the following years, years, they had years. So much time left together, this was the beginning again. The beginning.

She could feel the heat rising in her, desperation clouding her vision, they sped their rhythm, moans dripping from their lips. The sound of skin slapping skin was music, it was drowning in heavy breathing, kissing no longer an option as neither could find the space to breathe.

Eliza's hands fell to the bed, clutching the sheets into her hands, head turned to the side to try and catch air. "Alexander." She chanted his name, a prayer. He filled her, hitting that certain spot with every snap forward. She couldn't keep up with his pace, she fell back, moaning and stupid with pleasure.

She came with a low groan, body tightening around him as he continued to move through her orgasm and Alexander was not far behind. Her mind was hazy with lust and she swore for a moment she blacked out, her vision disappearing and nothing but the sound of blood rushing through her ears but Alexander pulled her back into clarity. His lips finding her own as he came inside of her.

He filled her, the aftershocks of orgasm running through them as he lay on top of her, both trying to make sense of the night they shared.

After an eternity, Eliza pressed her lips to Alexander's cheek. "Don't leave me, Alexander, never again, please. Please, don't leave me on my own."

"Never again," Alexander slipped into the space next to her, taking her hands. "As long as I am alive, Eliza, I will be by your side. Allow me to be your husband and know I have made mistakes. I have made so very many mistakes and I will never be able to make up for the mistakes but allow me to continue forward, Eliza, and I swear to god that I will never leave you again."

Eliza nodded slowly, fighting back the tears that were threatening to return, "I love you, Alexander."

"I love you too, Eliza." Alexander pulled her close to him for a tight hug before she pulled away.

"I will be right back, my love, go to sleep and I will be here when you wake." Eliza pressed her lips to his before she pulled away from him, moving to her closet for a nightgown before disappearing from the room. He would never know where she had been earlier in the night, she would never allow him to know of her trip to visit Aaron Burr. The paper still folded inside of her traveling coat that now lay on the bedroom floor. She would rid of it in the morning, there was no need for it now. The papers that called for their divorce. 

Alexander was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

* * *

He woke groggily a few hours later to a pounding head and a dry mouth. Eliza curled into his side made his heart flutter, it took all of his strength to pull from her. Slowly, he detached himself from her, careful not to wake her. Dressing in the dark clothes from the night before, he slipped from the room and to the kitchen to fetch himself some water. 

That's when he heard the front door slam and the pounding of footsteps, "Pops, pops, you should have heard the shit he said about you."


End file.
